Lyon pushed himself straighter as he began to understandhis brother’s idea. “Filled with what, exactly?” he whispered, already guessing the answer.
And Keith’s smile seemed to grow. “Do ye, or do ye no’, have a portfolio of sketches of new printing presses in the top drawer of yer desk?”
He did.
Lyon had been researching the new designs because the advances made in the last decade in mechanical designs were just fascinating. Lyon had several books on the concepts, and he’d been trying his own hand at some sketches.
But instead of letting Keith know how hard his heart was pounding, he pretended to scowl. “And how in the hell would ye ken that?”
“Who do ye think tidies up yer desk each night, ye wee dobber?” Keith shook his head in amusement. “The little people? The paperwork fairy? Thehousekeeper?”
“Mrs. Oliphant?—”
“—hasnae stepped foot in yer study since ye yelled at her about rearranging yer ledgers when she dusted,” Keith finished triumphantly. “I’m the puir bastard who cleans this place up.”
Lyon hummed. “How much am I paying ye?”
“No’ nearly enough,” the younger man cheerfully informed him.
“Remind me to increase yer salary tomorrow.”
Keith nodded. “Since I’m also in charge of household expenses and ledgers, how about I just double it?”
For the first time in a long while, Lyon felt like chuckling.
Bonnie was alive, and her manuscript was safe. And Lyon, thanks to Keith’s prodding, had an idea to bring her dream back to life.
“Fine, do that,” he snapped. “But first, pour me some more water, and then fetch those sketches.” He pushed himself to his feet, feeling stronger than he had since before he’d taken his heart in his hands and traveled to Inverness.
“And where will ye be?”
Lyon’s lips twitched. “I’m going to fetch the manuals on printing presses. We have a great hall to renovate!”
CHAPTER 12
Was there anything worse than being an invalid, especially when Bonnie was absolutely certain she didn’thaveto be in bed all the time?
Well, yes. You could be dead.
Put like that, it was hard to complain.
But still, as the days passed, and it became clear she wasn’t going to be allowed out of the guest room she’d been given, Bonnie’s irritation at the inactivity grew. Of course, at first, she was only awake for an hour or two each day—long enough to attend to personal tasks with the maid Lyon had hired for her.
But no matter how much the laudanum affected her, and no matter how much her head hurt, Bonnie had the same dream each night; Lyon, holding her carefully in his arms.
It took a fortnight before she realized it wasn’t a dream.
They were both fully clothed, and she was certain she felt—and smelled—exactly like an invalid would. But each night, he climbed into her bed and held her.
And the nightmares—licking flames and choking smoke—were held at bay.
As she began to recover, Lyon would visit her during the day, as well. He brought her books, and they discussed their favorites, or he would nag her into eating more. He kept her apprised of the goings-on with their families—she was thrilled to learn he was spending more time with his brothers, although he wouldn’t tell her why—and shared stories of their pasts.
She loved hearing about the antics of his nephew Callan, his sister Athena’s son. Since the lad had been born out of wedlock, he’d run wild through Newfincy Castle, with Lyon, Lysander and Phineas as his father-figures. But now Athena had fallen in love with and married the Duke of Cashard, and one might think that Callan’s mischievous streak had been tempered…but it seemed Cashard’s son and heir Matthew was just as bad, and the pair of them together had stories which kept Bonnie giggling.
And Lyon told her more about Rose and the time he’d had with her. When he explained workmen from the village had come to tear down the ruins of the stables where she’d died, Bonnie heldhimas he mourned, and she whispered how proud she was of him.
Aye, being stuck in this room was irritating, but in all honesty, it wasn’t so bad, not when Lyon would regularly visit her. But he always had to leave, and seemed to be very busy, without telling herwhy. Whenever she asked, or whenever she’d try to discuss the future, he’d change the subject.
